Deist
by Moga
Summary: The problem with people is that they never actually bother to leave a message.  They just start talking and assume that we’re listening.  Sorry, but we’re rather busy.  Now please learn to leave a message.  See profile for story warnings
1. 1,2

Author's Note: For anyone who read Contravene and also happened to read my bio, this would be another work that follows the lines of Contravene. It's not the same characters or situation, but the theme of using uncommon or rare character types. Hopefully this one will be at least as good as Contravene, though I suppose the goal is to have each work be better than the last.

For a look in to what's to come, the featured image on my DeviantArt page (Moga) is the preview image for this story. I also have a journal entry up with a character quiz for the two main characters in this story.

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1,2

The whole floor was void of life, if you ignored the one moving creature that there was. The entire place was a world in and of itself; a microcosm made out of red rock and bubbling lava. It was usually bursting with activity, sound a constant roar of voices, and vision a blur of people bustling from one place to another. But, for the moment, only one soul dared stir in the silence. No one else dared move and reveal their hiding place, for the consequences would be terrible, even more horrible than the place already was. Thousands of feet above the ground, worn smooth by the passage of billions of feet, the great ceiling shook, stalactites trembling as they clung to the vast rock roof. Here and there small rocks and great chunks of stone were dislodged, falling downwards, their velocity accelerating to speeds fast enough to kill any person unfortunate enough to be hit by the falling debris.

A stalactite lost its hold, thousands of years worth of mineral buildup sent freefalling downwards, dull tip pointing towards the ground. It barely missed the one lone individual who had not taken cover, falling very close to his path and forcing him to hurry away from the resulting explosion of rock. The individual very nearly swore at the close call and ensuing inconvenience, but held his tongue. He liked to think himself above the need for such vulgar words. He was a small, proud creature, measuring barely four feet in height. The two antennae atop his head were flattened in agitation, dark ruby eyes glaring at the shattered stone goliath as though it had done him some personal wrong or unbearable inconvenience.

The imminent danger did not divert him, however. He had a job to do, however much he loathed the prospect of it. He hurried forward, dodging danger when need be but otherwise keeping a direct coarse towards his destination. As he drew closer to his goal, he was able to pick out sound other than the rumbling of the ceiling so very far above his head. It was a horrible, screeching wail that sounded over the individual thunderous poundings that were making the ceiling crumble.

Walking briskly down the straight, impossibly wide tunnel, his antennae perked for a moment as he was able to perceive the passage beginning to open up ahead. He picked up his pace slightly, not eager to fulfill this particular part of his job but wishing to get it over with. Although he could see the path widening, it still took him a good ten minutes to near the end of that particular tunnel. He turned right, following the sweeping curve of the omnipresent rock along for a minute or two, until it opened up in to an antechamber, the walls falling away in curves impossible to measure with ordinary equipment and the ceiling arching upwards even higher. He had entered the bottom right hand part of the room. On the left, another enormous tunnel connected the room to a higher level. All around the right, left, and bottom walls of the room, lesser tunnels dotted the red walls, leading down in to the depth of the scarlet rock. What was considered the front wall was essentially nonexistent, since there was almost no rock to found. Instead the entire space was filled with an enormous, sweeping staircase, faintly glowing a pale silvery white.

The entire staircase had a tendency to annoy everyone within the microcosm. It wasn't that the denizens didn't appreciate a change of scenery, it was just the sheer snobbery associated with the stairway. For one, certain persons liked to boast that the steps were made out of nothing but solid purity, hence the faint glowing. Secondly, those same persons had a horribly annoying habit of standing at the top of said steps of purity and look down at everyone else with pure contempt and smug superiority on their faces. Which is why it was commonplace to hurl insults and make rude gestures at the staircase whenever one passed by.

However, all cursing, hand gestures, mooning, derogatory comments, and all other maturely immature and downright immature behavior had been suspended a few months prior. Not that there was much of an enforcement policy on the decree; it was just part of a larger effort to, as they were told, "Clean this damn place up." They were then told, via an overstuffed, brightly colored, and overall too-friendly rainbow patchwork puppet "It's reeaaallll messy!"

It was also one of the reasons for Hell's third ever construction project. In order to "clean up," it was decided that the underworld was entirely too crowded and another level was needed. Due to the fact that there wasn't room above the first level of Hell, and beneath the seventh level was Purgatory, it was decided, as the puppet told them in a rather squeaky voice, that the third level would be split in half horizontally. It was also decided that, because mortals had actually managed to figure out that Hell did indeed have seven levels, not to confuse the mortals by calling the new level "eight." Instead the split levels were dubbed "three a" and "three b." Or, more accurately, "three b" and "three a," because, the puppet said, the higher level was for people who had sinned more and "they don't deserve to have level a. So they get b; b for bad."

That was why High Demon Kyuubi was making his way up from level three a to the landing, for lack of an actual name for the chamber he was in, of lower level three a and upper level three b. The decrees and the sheer stupidity of the naming, however, were not the reasons he didn't curse; that was just a personal preference that had existed long before Hell had began to burnish its reputation. He was also in an extreme hurry, as he began climbing up the pale silver steps. By the time he got back, and this he knew for a fact, someone would have taken his chair. Or he'd be hit by a large piece of falling rock. Or be thrown bodily off the staircase by a purity prude. Not like anyone would bother to help if either of those last two scenarios came to be reality.

He was well aware that he could have gone faster if he'd bent over slightly and used his hands to help move him up the stairs. However, he had a lot more dignity than that and even the pace at which he was moving was too fast for his pride. He didn't want to appear too eager or arrive too soon. He was a powerful demon, not a dog, and certainly not an amah. But he had no choice in this; he was under direct orders from his superior.

At the top of the staircase stood, or so appeared to to most people, a massive, partially transparent foot. There were three talons-like digits and a thumb, all arranged quite close together; more of a paw than anything. Once one was close enough, granting that one got close enough, the foot connect to a leg, impossibly thick yet proportional to the giant paw. The forearm angled gently backwards before kinking at the elbow with the upper arm pointing forward. The shoulder was one smooth curve beyond the abilities of any normal protractor, merging cleanly into a poorly defined neck. That was because the neck was really no different than the chest, torso, abdomen, or tail. It was all thick, round, and serpentine; a pale, semi-transparent blue with the occasional band of darker blue. In fact, in one could ignore the legs and head, the creature was nothing more than a snake of enormous proportions. Perhaps some would even include the legs and simply say that the creature was pre-biblical; which it was, but that was besides the point because it was unlikely that any of them had ever heard of the bible. It was the head that was the deterrent of this idea and the cause for terror. Instead of the rounded snout of a snake, the mouth was decidedly beak-like, slitted nostrils set wide apart on the curve that ended not in a point but a narrow, rounded tip. Hidden within the gaping cavern of the creature's mouth was a set of venomous fangs taller than full grown trees, pearly white despite the being's age, and covered in a thin film of salvia, causing them to gleam sinisterly in any light. The giant's eyes were proportional - large – and a shining blue. It was the eyes that were perhaps more frightening that the fangs, for the blue orbs were more prominent and in immediate view. Although bright, the eyes were disturbingly shallow, nothing but cold contempt held within the icy orbs.

As the small male scampered towards where the giant being stood, the massive creature turned his head to regard him with a frigid gaze. He considered the smaller being for only a moment before moving his head back to its previous position, the movements of head and neck slow and regal, like the movements of an old king. As the other past him, the creature kept his head held high, staring out over nothing.

Internally, the small one relaxed slightly, letting out a metaphorical sigh of relief. It appeared that the guard was not going to stop him this time. He kept his fast pace, however, wary of the sentinel changing his mind and stopping him for discriminatory questioning. Almost as though the other had heard his thoughts, the massive tail lifted heavily in to the air, arcing thickly before slamming in to the ground before the other. The ground shook with the impact and smaller male was forced to retreat several steps, stumbling backwards as he struggled to keep his balance.

He clenched his eyes shut tightly, biting the inside of his cheek as he felt his hands curl in to fists, his sharp fingers digging in to his palms. Forcing himself to calm enough to not take his anger and frustration out on the guard, he relaxed his hands and open his eyes, gazing at the other. His gaze was hard, but so was the giant's. They stayed locked like that for one long, precious moment before the smaller male broke the contact, snarling at himself. He hadn't wanted to back down, but time was too valuable and slipping by even as he moved unhindered, let alone when fools stepped before him.

The serpent smirked, head lifting a little bit higher in a show of superiority. One of the small male's hands closed in to a fist again. Perhaps this is all the bigot wanted: a crude toll of subservience. But then the giant tilted his head and spoke to him:

"You are not welcome here and yet here you are, standing within these sacred bounds, contaminating purity with your filth. I wonder, what would happen to you if I were to, say, inform certain persons of your… unwelcome presence? I shudder to think, the trouble you would be in would be more terrible than you yourself are, perhaps more terrible than your slave-driving master." The creature chuckled darkly, the tone contrasting sharply with his talk of purity.

"I was sent here," the small male snarled in reply. "It seems that _your _precious Goddess has committed sins of her own that need to be rectified."

The giant reared his head back, blue eyes flashing dangerously as he hissed at the other, flecks of saliva escaping his mouth. "You _dare_ accuse Hier of such, you son of sin?! Hier is capable of no sin, her word is law, purity of the highest degree! There is no 'rectifying' to be done! The only thing you bring with you is the stain of sin, a sprawling morass of it that has no place here, no right to exist anywhere. Oh, how I await the day I am allowed to descend in to Hell and obliterate it, smashing it to little pieces and destroying it along with all the sin it contains!"

The small one growled again. "I was sent here," he repeated, "by my superior. I came, as I was told."

The beast snorted at him, pulling its head away from him as though he was some disgusting thing he had stepped on by accident. "Well I suggest you crawl back in to your dark hole of a home and tell your 'superior,' as you so _nicely_ call him, that I don't care what excuse you come up with. Hell's vermin will not cross in to Elysian so long as I, Urururra, guard of Hier, stand point at its entrance."

"Than I dearly hope," the small male growled, "that Hier will still allow you such positions with a death to your name."

Urururra reared backwards, looking as though the other had deeply affronted him. "That… _thing_," he spat out the word as though it was a deadly poison, "is nothing! A bastard child! It has no place here!" The serpent was screeching, each statement becoming progressively higher pitched.

"Well she sure seems to care for 'that thing,' as you so affectionately call him." The small male scoffed, staring with open defiance at the distressed serpent.

Urururra hissed at him again, grumbling dark, unintelligible things to himself. His body arced and twisted, coiling with itself. His front feet lifted off the ground, leaving his body resting on his back haunches as he agonized over his choices. The small male watched him, agitation becoming more and more apparent on his face the longer the other took to make a decision.

Finally, Urururra slammed his front legs down again, shaking the ground once more. Fury blazed in his eyes as he glared death at the small male. "Fine than," the serpent spat, and the small male had the distinct feeling that there was some real venom contained within the spit, "but don't think that your going to be left unattended, vermin."

The smaller's cheek twitch slightly. "The very beginnings of thinking about having such thoughts had yet to even considering forming within my mind," he ground out. The serpent gave him a haughty, distrustful look before its tail began to move, the middle lifting off the ground first, the thick base and lighter tail tip following its lead. The tail crashed back to the ground once more on Urururra's other side.

Even as he was allowed to pass, which he did in a hurry, the small male glared a large assortment of very sharp, pointy objects at the giant snake, wishing that there really was a chance the imaginary weapons could cause the other real, physical pain. This job really should have been labeled as a semi-suicide mission. Not that he would necessarily be killed on sight or launching some sort of one-man kamikaze attack, but the lure of attacking Urururra or causing himself physical pain in order to deter these thoughts was incredibly tempting - to those of lesser will power anyway. If there was nothing else he was proud of, he prided himself on his self-control alongside his work ethic; unlike his slacking coworkers, apparently.

The terrain he now walked through was much more pleasing to the eye than the oppressive red rock beneath the staircase. The place he was now in seemed to be one never-ending expanse of rolling green grass, dotted pleasantly with tall, leafy trees and patches of colorful, sweet smelling flowers. It was warm and bright despite the lack of a visible sun or any other light source. The trees provided expanses of cool shade, slightly cooler than the temperature out in the open. The grass, green as that supposedly found on the 'other side of the fence,' was soft and springy beneath his bare, two-toed feet, flattening without resistance but popping back up as soon as his foot moved.

As he moved, he kept his eyes forward, attempting look determined and as though he belonged in the green world. This, he hoped, would at least deter anyone interested in questioning him; a tip he had picked up from one of his coworkers. Unfortunately, the trick only worked so well.

"Yo! Kyuubi!" He flinched, a habit he had picked up whenever he traveled in to Elysian. He relaxed almost instantly though, recognizing the loud, friendly greeting. He turned to look over his shoulder, watching the other's form approach him from behind.

She looked vaguely like he did, except with most of her limbs positioned differently. Her eyes were a dark, mischievous red, a slightly twisted sort of intelligence constantly working in their depth. Her curled antennae bobbed as she jogged up to meet him, wooden hoops suspended within the curve of her antennae jumping with each slightly lurching step she took. Her legs were rather like that of a dinosaur, not completely set off to the sides but not entirely underneath her either. As she moved, only the single toe one each of her feet came in contact with the ground, her heels forever in the air. Like him, she wore no clothing, but perched on her head was a wooden adornment, highly polished and clearly identifying her as someone of importance. The polished band wrapped neatly around her head, a neat curve that dipped down at the center of her forward to form a small, slightly sharp point.

He gave her a nod of greeting as she caught up with him, grinning at him as she slowed down to trot alongside him. "Afternoon, Leor." The grin momentarily turned in to a smirk as she gave him a calculating glace over.

"So, you here for the little guy?" Her tone was light and conversational as she asked.

He gave her another nod, this one in affirmation. "So I have been told." Leor gave him an odd, critical look.

"Don't ch'ya think you should have brought somethin' with you than?" Honestly slightly startled and confused, Kyuubi glanced over his person, registering a great lack of having anything at all and not finding anything wrong with this.

"What do you mean?" he asked her with genuine curiosity. Leor looked shocked at his question for a fraction of a second before her face broke out in an amused smirk.

"Don' worry Kyu-Kyu," she cooed gently, patting him on the arm as he tensed at the use of _that_ nickname, "I'll hook you up with all you need." Here she snickered, patting her chest as she gave him a confident grin.

"_Don't_ call me that," he snapped, jerking away from his touch. Leor laughed slightly, looking at him with affection clear in her eyes.

"Aw, but it's so _cute_…"

"_Exactly,"_ he muttered in return. Leor frowned at him.

"See, this is exactly the opposite of what you're always spazzing out about."

He twitch. "I don't spaz."

"Well than you've never see yourself rant, because you go in to these little twitchy convulsions and, let me tell you, it is down right _hilarious_ to watch. Serious, you like get this eye tick thing going and you just start _twitching_…"

"Greeaaat…" he drawled, tone deadpan.

"Isn't it?" She smiled at him again.

"No." was the flat response.

"Well that's because you're not fun," Leor countered. As Kyuubi opened his mouth to respond, she cut him off. "And we're almost there. You go ahead, I'll go get all the stuff you forgot." As she darted off, he found himself yelling after her:

"No one said I needed to bring anything!"

"Not an excuse!" Leor bellowed back before she disappeared from view. Kyuubi continued onwards alone, disgruntled as he tried to figure out what it was that he was supposed to have brought with him. He racked his memory, but honestly couldn't remember being told that he needed to bring anything with him. This… This was just unheard of. High Demon Kyuubi did _not_ forget _anything_ when it came to his work. That's what made him so much more efficient than his coworkers and the reason why he had been sent on this… asinine… mission… Crap.


	2. 1,2,3,4

Author's Note: No reviews? Aw… Anyways, this chapter has action! Hope I did it okay. Eh, hopefully people don't take to hating Leor; she's got a lot of anger in 'er. And I think this story is now officially T rated.

Chapter warnings: Swearing, mentions of child neglect.

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1,2,3,4

As Kyuubi approached his destination, the ground began to shake again. The flowers shivered as the trees swayed and creaked alarmingly. With every new thing that came in to view, the effects of the quakes became more and more apparent. First it was just some downed limbs; large branches, yes, but nothing a strong storm couldn't have done. Then he came upon entire trees toppled over with their roots ripped out of the ground and exposed; naked in death. When he was almost upon the end of his journey, the earth trembled pitifully, mere aftershocks of the massive waves that had torn apart the ground, greatly earthy cracks littering what was once uninterrupted field. Entire coppices had been destroyed, hundreds years of growth likely felled within minutes. The great trees lay scatters yards from where they had once stood, thrown by the undulating earth. The ground rippled unnaturally, bending and warping the terrain as the waves tossed and rolled the downed trees.

A straight course was no longer possible, Kyuubi realized, as he entered the war zone. Wave after wave of sonic vibrations shook the ground, following each other with little time to catch one's balance between them. As Kyuubi stumbled to the left as he attempted to walk in a straight line, he was thrown off balance and crashed in to an uprooted tree. Flinching as he fell roughly against solid timber, Kyuubi scrambled to get purchase on the bark as another wave hit, the ground cresting underneath his feet. His eyes widened as the tree he was holding on to rose with the ground, riding the wave backwards. Kyuubi quickly scrambled on top of the tree, biting his lip as he deliberated for half a second before realizing he really had no choice, and jumped off the impromptu raw-material surfboard.

He hit the ground on his side, rolling to prevent as much injury as possible. When he looked back, the tree was now three feet away from him and he had gained a total of about a foot from where he had first started. Perhaps some enthusiast, dare devil, or masochist would find this enjoyable, but Kyuubi, at least according to Leor, did not have a sense of fun. And he was in something of a hurry, so moving one foot every two and a half minutes wasn't really going to cut it. Not that he had much choice; he stood up and was promptly hit in the chest by a dislocated branch. He fell unto his back and was moved, as though a piece on a conveyor belt, back two and a half feet by another seismic wave.

He glared up at the sky, felling slightly tempted to just give up and turn around. So far he had managed to lose a foot and half and had gained – he looked down at the weight in his arms – a medium sized branch. As he clambered to his feet, he grimly reflected that this was like some sort of dangerous contact sports game. Possibly dubbed "Can _You_ Survive An Earthquake?" It was worse than full contact rugby or "Who Wants to be an Immigrant?!"

Glaring out at the world, Kyuubi threw the tree branch off of him and charged forward. He continued his surge for a little over thirty seconds before another wave hit the earth and rose up before him. This was only a small wave, perhaps a little under a foot in height. With an athleticism he had yet to show, Kyuubi jumped the moving ridge and kept barreling forward. Four feet from him a felled tree laying parallel to the way he wanted to go: This was his goal. Another wave formed, this one a real danger. Keeping the speeding mound of earth in sharp focus, Kyuubi swerved to the right, avoiding the bulk of the wave but stumbling over part of the low edge. He tumbled forward, working the fall in to a roll. He didn't end up on his feet and running, but the crouch that he had ended in wasn't the end of his run. As seismic waves speed towards him unseen through the earth, Kyuubi pushed out of his position, running hard for the tree still two and a half feet away. Jumping over another low crest, he leapt upon the tree, panting hard as he waited. Eventually the opportunity he was waiting for would present itself, but in the meantime he needed to catch his breath. Just because he had been able to get this far didn't mean that he routinely did such exercise and was in top physical condition. In fact, both of those statements were false - Kyuubi was actually quite happy to think of himself as a paper pusher.

Rather sooner than Kyuubi would have liked, his plan was set in motion. The aftershocks had worn down but another full-fledged quake had hit. His antennae perked, picking up on the sound waves as they approached, bearing with them roiling waves of earth. He braced himself against one end of the fallen tree he had grabbed on to earlier. His muscles tensed as his sharp fingers dug in to the tree's bark. As the first of the waves hit, Kyuubi shoved the tree upwards with an impressive, if very little seen, show of power. As the downed wood was lifted in to the air, Kyuubi hauled himself on to it. He stood shakily on top of it, wobbling quite a bit as he fought to not lose his balance and consequently fall off. As the wave of dirt and grass he was on top of crested, Kyuubi pushed his weight forward, tipping the log over the point of the mound. The tree went hurtling downward, Kyuubi on top of it. Unfortunately, he didn't really have as much control over the tree as he thought he would. That and the fact that, due to it's rounded design, the tree was starting to roll over.

Teeth digging hard in to his tongue, Kyuubi managed to shuffle further up the tree's trunk until he was able to grab hold of thick, sturdy branch. Hoping he wasn't about to kill himself, Kyuubi steeled himself and wrenched the branch to the right. The branch held and the tree slid a bit more to the right, hitting a large rock and being pushed further to the right, carving sloppily around a large wave and skipping over a smaller one.

Kyuubi tensed, fingers and toes digging hard in to the tree before he leapt off as the tree began to loose momentum. His running was no longer neat and efficient, but rather like he had discovered that some part of his back was on fire. His arms wind milled as he attempted to keep his balance, body tilting forwards and backwards as he stumbled an assortment of ways.

Eyes wide open, chest heaving, and mouth agape as his tongue lolled out, Kyuubi was too winded to bother with his dignity. He had gotten through the quake zone alive. Now all that was left was to do the job assigned from him, return to Hell, and oust whoever had the gall to take his chair.

Regaining his breath and his posture, Kyuubi strode forward with confidence. That had to have been the hardest part and here he was, alive and in piece. It was therefore logical that the worst that could happen now was that he would die traversing the earthquake ridden area again on his way back to the staircase.

He was almost tempted to hum and inject a bit of a jaunty swagger I to his step, but he didn't. After all, he was quite convinced that karma hated him and therefore tried his best to be largely neutral in his actions. He would have tried to generate good energy, but didn't because of how unappreciated he knew his efforts would be; a stigma that came with being a demon.

Besides, he was were he wanted to be anyway. Before him lay the epicenter of the quakes in all its destructive glory. He was a small creature that looked almost exactly like a miniature version of Kyuubi. This male, however, had bright blue eyes and soft rolls of newborn fat. He lay on the ground, dirt clinging to his chubby body, as his pudgy hands were fists clutching at the grass. The cleanest part of the smeet was probably his face, though that had dirt smeared on it as well, where copious tears had worked their way through the grim and formed streaks of mostly clean, if damp, flesh.

This was his mission: make the smeet stop crying. And he hadn't the slightest clue how to do it. The smeet had momentarily quieted upon seeing him, but, when he simply stood there doing nothing, proceeded to begin sniffling, fresh tears beginning to well in his eyes.

"Eh, eh, um… Don't cry…?" The tears overflowed, the smeet's lower lip trembling as he continued to whimper. Why had he been sent on this mission again? Damn it, _Diablo _had more experience in this matter than he did. The demon lord had a _daughter_ for crying out loud. And why wasn't Diablo than here in his place? Oh, that was right, because he was busy playing with a bunch of freaking puppets.

Maybe he should have brought one of those, he thought, as the smeet's whimper increased to a piercing whine. Kyuubi's eyes glanced back and force rapidly, widening in panic as the smeet scrunched down on himself and began to wail. "Wait, wait, no don't do that!" The smeet kept on screeching. "That's not healthy! That how you get sick! Meh, eh… Mmm…" He was coming up with blanks as to what to do. Asides from completely humiliating himself by attempting to dance, he had no ideas. Crud. Eyes lidded and face nearly the definition of defeat, Kyuubi attempted to entertain the smeet through dance.

At the very least the smeet stopped crying. On the other hand, he was looking at the older male like he'd never seen anything like him before. Kyuubi growled faintly, feeling distinctly like he was on display. The smeet burbled at him, possibly in amusement.

"Hey, shut up," Kyuubi snapped. "It's interpretive dance."

"Hee, I'm interpretin' a lot of anger, Kyuubi." Kyuubi swore, although he wasn't exactly sure what he said, as his dancing came to an abrupt halt. Apparently Leor had returned from wherever she had gone. "Oh, don't mind me, I won't tell."

"Tell what?" Kyuubi asked, attempting to deny his actions by pretending to be ignorant.

"Oh, you know, that can't dance worth crap."

"Gee, thanks," he muttered, although he wasn't really bothered by her bluntness.

"Your welcome!" came the chipper reply as Leor walked in to his field of vision, dragging… something behind her.

"What's that?" he asked her, gesturing to the thing she had brought with her. The flat look he got in return wasn't encouraging.

"Kyuubi, you're a moron and I hope you never father children."

"So do I," was the prompt response, skipping entirely over the first insult.

"Good," Leor grumbled. "This," she said as she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, "it food. For him," she added for clarification as she gestured to the smeet on the ground. Kyuubi stared at the container.

"It doesn't look very appetizing…"

"I have a mind to slap you…" Leor growled. Kyuubi's eyes widened as his head whipped back to stare at her.

"What? Why?"

"Because that came out of my damn body, bastard!" Kyuubi took a few small, hopefully undetected, steps backwards. Leor had a slightly feral look to her and he'd rather not risk losing a limb by provoking her accidentally. That, and the container of fluid that had apparently come from her body was now disturbing him slightly. Apparently his movement weren't subtle enough, for Leor dropped her slightly manic expression for a flat deadpan one. "Kyuubi, you do realize that you know absolutely jack-shit about females, right?"

"Eheh, yeah…" Kyuubi flushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment.

"Good, 'cause I don't want you to walk around thinking that you're sex-smart." Kyuubi's head tilted to the side, eyes wide. "And yes," she said upon seeing his expression, "I meant the multiple meanings." She turned around to grab hold of the over-sized baby bottle with both hands and shoved it at Kyuubi. He caught it with a grunt, holding it out away from his body as he eyed the container warily.

"Why do I have to do it?" he asked, admittedly rather childishly.

"Because," Leor snapped, "I saved a whole damn species from going extinct and I'm not letting anyone suckle from my breast again."

"But-"

"Don't even think about saying it," Leor growled. "I don't give a crap whether that milk's in a bottle or not 'cause I'm not having some little bastard smeet bite me." The potential innuendo completely flew over Kyuubi's head as he stared at Leor. "Now stop lookin' at me like a moron an' feed him. Hell if I know the last time he's had a good meal…"


	3. Some Love

Author's Note: Chapter three! New character and the end of part one of Deist.

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ri2- Yup, underworld and overworld. That staircase was something of a teleporter between Hell and Elysian, so they're not really both underneath the area where mortals live.

Leor: (holding a glass of wine) Hey, if the smeet's been welcomed to life as a Jew, does that mean we should circumcise him?

Kyuubi: (chokes on his non-alcoholic grape juice)

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Some Love

A cloud of gloom surrounded Kyuubi as he returned to Hell. Perhaps it was simply the idea of returning to a place with a reputation such as Hell's after having spent time in such a place as Elysian. If a person were given a choice as to where they wished to be, Hell's population would be able to be tallied by a head count. Likely in the single digits. Probably countable on one hand. And he only had three fingers and a thumb.

Wow, that had sure improved his mood… Maybe it was just Leor. She had a strong personality and had a tendency to vent off on everyone around her, so maybe he was really just being weighed down by her baggage.

What he needed, he decided, was a nice long work session. He couldn't be depressed if he was immersed in Hell's never-ending paper work! While most people would find this idea quite sad, it really did seem like a good idea to Kyuubi.

Of course, whatever lift his mood had gotten was lost as soon as he entered what he liked to consider his room. It was a high domed, dual leveled roomed with four doors, one at each compass direction. There was no visible access to the upper level, which didn't have a full floor but circled the room like an observational platform. In the center of the room, facing east, was his chair. This wasn't some fantasy that he liked to entertain; it really was his chair. It always had been, even if no one felt the need to have the decency to recognize his ownership.

Case in point, the coworker currently lounging in his chair, just like he'd expected. Not working, not even just on break, slacking off in _his_ chair.

"Hey Kyuubi, how'd that trip go?" It was times like this that Kyuubi hated life. Times like this when his moronic coworker completely failed to understand his work and had absolutely no interest in getting his facts right. And, Kyuubi thought on a vindictive note, he's fat.

Kyuubi moved, heavy footed, over to his chair, standing over it with a deadpan look. The other wasn't actually sitting, but more along the lines of laying in his chair. As such he was able to tip his head back against one of the stone armrests and look up at the chair's owner, completely disregarding the other's gaze telling him to move.

"Not so good than? Sucks for you." Had Kyuubi been someone else he likely would have climbed over the armrest and sat on the other. However, Kyuubi had no urge whatsoever to touch the other and did not climb over armrests. He simply sat on chairs like a normal person, not like a child. He was also not about to tell the other, with different words, to move his fat ass.

Considering that Kyuubi had no plan other than to stand next to the chair and glare forces of motion at the other, it was a good thing that someone else came along.

"Kyuubi!" The excited cry was quickly followed by Silver when she came bounding in to the room from the south entrance. Unlike Kyuubi, Silver was energetic, high spirited, female, and quadrupedal. She was also covered in a heavy coat of silky, silvery fur that also formed a mane of sorts around her neck. Her eyes were bright and attentive, a pale blue that always stared people right in the eyes when she talked to them.

Kyuubi cocked an antennae in greeting to her. He wasn't particularly fond of Silver, but tolerated her childish energy. Mostly because he enjoyed living at least enough to not want to die because he was rude to the daughter of the demon lord.

"Aw, um, Kyuubi, how's San-san doing?!" Silver bounced around as she talked, reminding Kyuubi distinctly of a yippy puppy. Which wasn't really a stretch of the imagination, considering how she kept doing little half leaps that didn't get her hind legs off the ground, her perked ears, and her wagging tail.

"He's seen worse days," Kyuubi said, deciding not to upset the young female by telling her that the smeet in question was laying in squalor and starving or that he had been essentially abandoned by his mother.

"Aw…" Silver whined. "I wish _I_ coulda gone to see him… I just wanna snuggle him all day! Don't you Shuki?"

From Kyuubi's chair, Shukaku rolled his eyes, which were a unique burnt-gold color. "Not really," he said, removing a hand from behind his head to gesture with. "I mean, nothing against him or anything, but smeets really are filthy."

Silver squeaked, bouncing p and down excitedly. "Yeah, but than you get to bath them in those cute little smeet bath things!"

"Eh," Shukaku replied, replacing his hand behind his head as he relaxed in Kyuubi's chair, "I'd rather just stay away from 'em, rather keep my fur clean."

Silver leapt forward, pouncing on Shukaku in what was likely an impulse. "Fluffy!" she squealed as she buried her front paws in Shukaku's pelt of rich brown fur.

"Hey!" Shukaku snapped as she ruffled his fur. "You know how hard it is to keep my fur clean when I'm workin'?! I don't need it gettin' messed up when I'm _not_ working! Geez…!"

"Aw, sorry Shuki," Silver simpered, hooking her front legs about his shoulders in a hug. She nuzzled her cheek against his as she continued, "didn't mean to mess up your fur."

"Meh," Shukaku grunted, doing nothing to move either Silver or himself off of Kyuubi's chair. Kyuubi glared a fate worse than death at them, though only Silver noticed.

"Oh, heeeeeeey, Shuki, aren't we in Kyuubi's chair?"

"Mrf, not his damn chair," Shukaku grumbled his head lowering and his voice partially muffled by the fur on his chest.. "Don't see his name anywhere on it."

Silver cocked her head to the side, her fur tossed to the side by the movement. "Well why would he do that? If he carved his name in to th' chair then he'd have his name imprinted on his butt."

There was dead silence for a whole minute, as the two males stared at Silver, Kyuubi slack jawed and Shukaku's face twitching. Damnit, he was blushing, he knew it. Yet another things he hated about Silver was her awkward bluntness.

Shukaku nearly threw Silver off of his body when he finally started laughing, hands flying down to hold his sides as his body rocked with his mirth. When he managed to calm down he reached up to pat Silver on the head, soothing the startled and confused expression that her face harbored.

"Ya know, Silver, I don't think he needs to carve his name in to the seat of the chair. I was kinda thinkin' more along of the back of the chair. But, hey, it's about time _someone_ claimed his ass and if he claims it himself, well who am I to stop him from doing whatever sort of freakish things he wants to do to himself."

Kyuubi had turned on his heel and stormed off before Shukaku had gotten six words in to his third sentence. Screw the chair, they could have it. He was _not_ in the mood to deal with anyone right now. He wasn't a social creature at the best of times and things had been pretty bad as of late. He supposed it had all started with Sangreal's birth. What an occasion that had been… Even Hell's demons had been invited to see the newborn smeet, although the scorn of Urururra and Farook had shortened their visit. Come to think of it, Kyuubi had been sure that that had been the first time he'd really seen any of the inhabitants of Limbo; on the day Death's Embargo was lifted. He was rather confused by the trio's refusal to enter Elysian as an apology of trapping them between worlds for so long, though…

And then the problems started. Farook had been delighted by the birth, even after the rumors started and shrouded Sangreal and Hier in doubt. Like who, exactly, was Sangreal's father? There weren't exactly a lot of potential sires from Elysian, only Urururra and Farook, the latter of which already had a mate. There were two males in Limbo but one of them had died mated and the other was too deep in depression to have voluntarily fathered offspring.

After Sangreal's birth another problem was discovered: his existence was ripping the fabric of existence apart. The birth of being that was entirely pure had thrown off the balance between good and evil, and the removal of evil lead to a weakened process of natural selection; weakening the life in the Mortal Realm. In order to recalibrate Life, a force of pure evil equal to Sangreal's purity had to be created. Since no one in Hell had any plan to have a child, one had to be made from scratch. It was a job assigned to himself and Shukaku; Shukaku as the artistic Sculptor and he himself as the Animator. Thus Tristam had been 'born.'

There were few people that Kyuubi felt deserved pity, but Tristam, in his mind, was probably the most deserving being to ever exist. He himself had long tried to throw off the stereotypes and myths about demons and what others considered to be his inherent evil. Tristam had even less of an argument with which to atone himself.

It was hard for any child to live a life worse than Sangreal's, no matter how noble the smeet's lineage. Tristam, however, managed to come close. He was fed and cleaned as any child should be, but was treated more like a pet than a person. The youngling spent most of his time on the second level of the room, hidden from view but aware of the presence of others.

In order to reach him, Kyuubi had to leave the room his chair was located in and follow a staircase up from another chamber and traverse one of eight dark, narrow corridors to reach the upper level where the child roamed. If he had been larger, Tristam would have been a rather frightening creature. He had the gangly, pinched look of a person who had grown quite a lot taller in a short period of time and long, spindly limbs akin to those of a newborn colt or fawn, with the disproportionately big hands and feet of a puppy or cub. Besides the proportions however, Tristam bore a disturbing resemblance to Kyuubi, albeit with a darker skin tone and, currently at least, the inability to walk upright. Kyuubi blamed Shukaku for that, convinced that it was a deliberate jab at his plans to be celibate for his entire existence.

The other regarded him with his head turned to the side, one wary red eye regarding him. As he came closer to the smeet, Tristam took a few steps backward, his high steps putting a good amount of space between the two males. Kyuubi sighed gently, extending his hand to the other.

"Tristam…" The addressed smeet tossed his head, snorting in response, but didn't continue to back up.

Keeping his hand extended in a friendly gesture, Kyuubi slowly moved closer to the animal-like youth. "It's alright, kit," he whispered reassuringly, "I won't hurt you. That's it, it's just me. Just stay still, every thing will be okay. Yeah, that's good, just like that, just breath. Don't run, don't run, just stay there…" The whispering was a technique he had developed long ago to keep new arrivals in Hell from bolting and ending up lost or in a pool of lava. It worked well, since he had had so long to perfect the technique, now capable of soothing wild beasts. The young demon stood still, stance unchanged but eyes lidded in calm. Kyuubi reached out slowly, gently running his hand over the other's head. Tristam tensed just slightly, but didn't flinch or pull away from his touch. The elder continued to coo gently reassurances to the youngling, keeping him calm.

When the small creature's form slumped, Kyuubi let his whispers fade out. Sighing, he leaned against one of the rock walls, sliding down the rough surface until he was sitting cross-legged on the ground, one hand still resting on Tristam's head. His eyes slid closed as his mind drifted on to topics he wished not to think on.

Worry sparking dimly in his eyes, Tristam stepped closer to his senior, placing one oversized hand on Kyuubi's left knee and nuzzling his check gently. Kyuubi grimaced slightly, but cracked open one eye to regard Tristam, the hand on top of the other's head begin to rub the thin flesh gently.

Look in to Tristam's large eyes, filled with innocence and a hint of worry, Kyuubi felt a wave of rage and despair wash over him simultaneously. He hadn't done enough. Hier never should have had a child. Tristam never should have been created.

Now… Now it was too late. Tristam had been born shunned, the unloved stepchild of perfection. Inherently flawed; destined to be evil. He was nothing more than a child, yet soon his training would begin. His heart would be hardened, his body pushed beyond its limits, and his dormant powers awakened centuries before their time. Then, Kyuubi knew, he would be marked and forced to bear the scars for the rest of time.

But maybe… Maybe he could still do something to make Tristam's life bearable; make it a life worth living. Kyuubi's eyes narrowed, his fingers scratching the back of Tristam's head, the younger purring as he rolled back against the contact.

As Kyuubi planned, Tristam yawned, lazy pleasure clouding his vision as he climbed on to elder's lap. He flopped there belly-down, letting out another purr as Kyuubi switched hands and scratched began his antennae.

If his calculations were correct, his plan would not take long to set in motion. He paused for a moment, grinning as he realized that his intentions would be expanded up on. He ran his hand down Tristam's back, apply a firm pressure to the other's spine. It seemed that he'd be able to save two lives…


End file.
